10 January 2007

Mancunian Icon to save Britain's Blushes?

So there are rumours afoot that theBBCis cunningly attempting to recruit one Steven Patrick Morrissey to pen and perhaps perform the next United Kingdom Eurovision entry. I can't help but laugh at this eagerness to win the Eurovision, as it's almost as ludicrous as the Irish lust for Eurovision glory back in the mid-nineties, when it wasn't the winning that counted, just the beating of the English.* I don't know which is the more ridiculous phenomenon.

So, as we all know, Eurovision is a spectacular waste of space, where the only bit that really counts is the scoring. Oh, andLimerick's favourite sonwarbling away, I suppose, but he only gets going after his third brandy or so.

Still, I guess it matters to some people, and the real challenge will be for Moz to live up to the new criteria establishedlast year.The Guardiansuggests an interesting approach:

I humbly suggest that the BBC consider the following strategy: Morrissey emerges from the wings cloaked in the union flag to the sound of John Betjeman reading lines from Slough at deafening volume. Behind him stands a vast portrait of Ena Sharples. He performs a glam-inspired number which condemns Britain's involvement in Iraq, the continuing wretchedness of the royal family, the declining standards of the British sitcom, Jade Goody, Bernard Matthews and former Smiths drummer Mike Joyce. It is called Why Oh Why Must England Always Let Me Down?. As the song reaches its finale, Morrissey sets fire to the flag and hurls it into the crowd. Cut to Wogan.

Do you know, I think that might just work. I reckon it'd get twelve points from Ireland, at any rate, which would be something of a change. But then, we'd basically be voting for one of us anyway.Irish blood, English heart, and all that...

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* As, in truth, our habitual victories on such a kitschy stage got rather embarrassing.

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I flit between Ireland and England, skulking round churches, libraries, and museums, wetting my throat rather less often than I’d like, but perhaps more often than I should.
I suspect that the secret of life lies in laughter and humility, that only living things can go against the stream, that the riddles of God are more satisfying than the solutions of man, and that placed as sentinels of an unknown watch, we have a duty to whistle.
I think even more than I talk, and on good days I do so in that order.